


A Day Off at the Vantas House

by empty_battlefield



Series: A Slice of Sadstuck [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: (kind of), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Chronic Illness, Hopeful Ending, Humanstuck, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Mornings, Not Sadstuck, Other, Sadstuck, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry, Sickness, sickle cell anemia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9791813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_battlefield/pseuds/empty_battlefield
Summary: Rose and Kanaya called it "troll sickle cell anemia." And out of the three members of the Vantas family, poor Karkat suffered through the worst of it.While home from college on Christmas break, Kankri wants nothing more than todo somethingfor his kid brother on a rare day in which they are both home from school.Karkat wishes Kankri would just sit his ass back down and do his stupid homework--...leaving Kankri to question how close the two of them actually are.(*Sequel story has been posted*)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Kankri = 19 y/o  
> Karkat = 14 y/o

"Kankri?"

Kankri was in his signature position—hunched over his desk, eyes fixed on his never-ending pile of work that resulted from a full schedule of college classes that didn't seem to halt for his month of Christmas break. "Yes, Dad?" he answered without looking up. 

"Are you in the middle of something?"

"I'm always in the middle of something," the son replied. "What do you need?"

"I have to go in to work in a minute," he said hastily, "and Karkat's staying home today. I need you to watch him."

"I thought Winter break at the high school ended a week ago?" Kankri said as he spun in the desk chair to face his father—the man was already wearing his coat and had his backpack slung over one shoulder. 

"It did," his Dad said, "but he isn't feeling well. Says he's in pain from one of his episodes. Can you make sure he stays OK?"

"Yeah, of course," Kankri said, shutting off his desk light, but leaving his book and laptop open. "Where is he?"

"In his room. He might be sleeping. I want to catch the seven o'clock train, so I've got to go, but I'll see you both tonight. Text me to keep me posted." And with that he left the room, and then the house. 

Kankri knew his baby brother wasn't faking illness to extend his Christmas break. The school administration also knew about the Vantas family blood condition. Passed from parents to children, the genetic mutation flushed their blood a bright red, chilled down their body heat, and most poignantly, marred their red blood cells to make them poor carriers of oxygen. Rose and Kanaya called it "troll sickle cell anemia." And out of the three members of the Vantas family, poor Karkat suffered through the worst of it. 

Kankri checked in on Karkat, whose door was cracked open. Kankri peered in and saw him curled up on his side like a comma, in bed with the covers pulled over his head.

"Karkat?" Kankri whispered. "Karcrab, are you awake?"

"Don't—call me that," a groggy voice croaked out. "I'm fourteen, not five. And yeah, I'm fucking awake."

"Oh," Kankri said. "I'll be in the kitchen making breakfast. I assume you like your food hot, so you'll be eating with me in ten minutes, yes?"

"Sure—if you want me to puke it up an hour later," Karkat huffed sarcastically. "Could you stop trying to get me out of bed? I don't need another pain in the neck."

Kankri didn't seem to realize that an insult had hit him right in the face. "Your neck hurts?" he asked. "Perhaps you slept wrong?"

"My whole body hurts. You think the gods were nice enough to spare the space between my head and torso?" He replied. "That's cute."

"You take medication for the pain, right?" Kankri asked.

"Yeah."

"Have you taken it today?"

"Not yet," Karkat said. "But I will."

"Well, that's your reason, then," he concluded. "I strongly suggest that you take your dose with food—"

"Don't bother. I told you I probably won't keep it down anyway. So it doesn't matter," he cut his brother off. 

"That's a very rude thing to say to someone who's trying to help you," Kankri said in a huff. 

Karkat finally rolled over in his sheets. His bleary preadolescent gray eyes glared up at him as he said, "So stop trying to help me, if I'm so rude," he said.

"I'll be in the kitchen,” Kankri declared priggishly. “I will not hesitate to text Dad if you do not get something in you." He sauntered out of his brother's room. 

Kankri was flipping an over-easy egg onto his plate when Karkat shuffled past him into the room. Kankri watched as his brother mechanically popped open the lid labeled "Wednesday" on his weekly pill dispenser. He spilled the tablets into his palm and choked them down them with a glass of water. He produced a small cough after swallowing. 

What broke the silence was the clank of Kankri placing his plate on the kitchen island and pushing it towards Karkat. "Eat," he ordered, "You need to get some protein in you."

Karkat sighed heavily. "Fine. But only because I know you'll go tattling to Dad if I don't shove this down my throat."

"Darn straight I will," Kankri muttered as he dropped toast onto Karkat's plate as well and went to flip another egg for himself. When he coaxed the egg onto his own plate, Kankri watched as Karkat moodily separated the white from the yolk agitatedly with the side of his fork.

" _What_ on Alternia are you doing."

Karkat looked up and gave Kankri a glare. "I'm cutting my food, what the hell does it look like I'm doing."

"You're not going to eat all that yolk?"

"You're asking me if I want to clog my arteries more than they already are," Karkat replied, and with that Kankri’s lips pursed but stayed shut. 

After quickly shoveling his egg in his mouth, Kankri began speaking again. "Now, I know you're supposed to be drinking a lot of water, so I have two water bottles to put by the couch and by your bed, in case you decide to get your rest at either location...because I really don't want you over exerting yourself, especially if it's going to trigger another—"

"Kankri, Kankri—just stop talking," Karkat cut his older brother off, which left him stunned. "I know how to handle this. You don't. So please, just leave me alone today, and you can go back to doing whatever it is nerds like you usually do."

"I _do_ know how to handle this," Kankri protested. "I've been reading a lot lately, and I've consulted both Rose and Kanaya; they seem to be experts on the subject."

"Have you tried consulting _me_ , Kankri?" Karkat asked incredulously. "Wouldn't you consider me an _expert_ on my own medical condition? Huh? Of course not," he said with pique lying underneath his gruff voice, "because you're never here. You wouldn't know because you don't even live with us."

"I go to a college five hours away from here, obviously I don't live with you anymore," Kankri said pointedly. 

"I meant since before then, you asshole," Karkat said acidly. "I've been dealing with this since I was a kid. You've never had to. Who’s been helping me out? My friends and Dad. You weren't there, okay? You've spent your whole life in your room."

Kankri froze. "Have I really not been there in your life?"

"Of course you haven't," Karkat sourly went on, "you’ve never had any part in this. The worst you've had to put up with are a few chills here and there and the fact that you'll never be able to donate blood. You have no idea what it's _really_ like. You've had your head so far up your own ass that you wouldn't recognize my life if it hit you in the god damn face."

For once Kankri couldn't muster up any words. He asked shortly, "Well, what can I do to help you?"

Karkat choked out a laugh as he stood up. "You can sit your ass back down at your desk and do your stupid homework." Karkat slumped out of the kitchen and plopped his aching body on the couch and Kankri retreated to his room. 

When Kankri returned to the living room, Karkat was curled up on the couch, the light from one of his rom coms dancing brightly on his grimacing face.

"I have your water."

Karkat grunted in a way that could have been "thanks." Kankri cautiously placed the water on the table. Karkat’s words replayed in his head like a scratched record. Kankri barely knew his own brother. But something made Kankri firmly believe something was wrong. Maybe he just hoped something was wrong because it would give him something to help fix. He was getting antsy from retiring his hands for so long. He tentatively asked, "Karkat—are you sick right now?"

"No, Kankri," Karkat said, "for the last time, I'm not sick. Just tired."

"You keep wiping your nose," Kankri said pointedly.

"Allergies," Karkat explained gruffly.

"You don't have them," Kankri said. 

"How the hell would you know?"

"Karkat, stop trying to push me away," Kankri said, hurt. "I'm not going anywhere."

Karkat sighed. "I'm fine. My immune system has always sucked, I'm used to it." Kankri couldn't help feeling a rock drop into his stomach, since his little brother wouldn't _have_ to be _used to it_ if perhaps their places were switched.

"Let me take your temperature," Kankri said staunchly. 

Karkat rolled his eyes. "I'm wrapped in a friggin' blanket, Kankri, does it look like I have a fever?" Kankri dismissed his remark and left to retrieve the thermometer from the bathroom.

When Kankri returned, the screen was paused. Something _was_ wrong. He found Karkat hunched stiffly over himself. Kankri practically tripped over his own legs as he quickly rounded over to Karkat's side of the couch. Karkat's face was screwed up in pain. Kankri saw him clutching the right side of his chest, shoulders bracingly tensed as he leaned slightly forward.

Kankri shoved the thermometer in his brother's ear. When it beeped, it read 99.1. 

"I'm fine, asshole," Karkat said gruffly. "My stupid capillaries are just clogged with my own cells. It happens sometimes." Karkat gritted his teeth through another wave of pain. He was making an effort to take in slow, deep breaths.

"You're at 99.1," Kankri insisted. 

Annoyance was creeping into Karkat's voice. "Kankri. Take one of your chill pills."

Kankri could count on one hand the number of people who knew that he was being medicated for anxiety. "Karkat, I don't poke fun at your medical issues. So there’s no reason for you to poke fun at mine."

"That's because I can't do shit about my own body," Karkat said irritatedly. "I'm not the guy that spends his entire month off from school writing papers. Gog forbid, you actually enjoy yourself on Christmas break. Seriously, Kankri. You stress yourself out until you're crazy—and you don't even _have_ to."

"I don’t—" Kankri trailed off, wide eyed at Karkat's comment.

"Don't think dad never told me about how many days you missed when you were in high school," Karkat said cynically, "because you used to literally worry yourself sick. I'm just saying that you'd be much better off if you would just relax."

"You want me to—relax?" Kankri asked slowly. 

"Yeah. I mean, I get that you're serious about school," Karkat said, "and that's fine and all, I respect that, but—if you're going to throw yourself into some fit because of it—I don't know, I just don't think the grade is worth _that_ much."

Kankri was ready to launch into a lecture about the importance of putting education before all when Karkat's face clenched up again. His shoulders had been gradually lowering as he talked, but they jerked upward again as the episode returned.

"Do you need me to get some Advil?" Kankri asked quickly. He was already rising from the couch. 

Karkat grabbed his bright red sweater arm instead of saying no. "I already took it," he murmured. Guardedly, Kankri sank back into the spot next to him.

"It'll pass," Karkat hissed under his breath. He was curling over himself again, and Kankri could only stare at him sorely. "There's nothing you can do about it."

And Kankri just settled rigidly next to his brother as he sat, whole body curled and cringing tensely, watching him drag breaths in and out, in and out. "It'll pass...it'll pass," Karkat continued sibilating. 

Eventually his breaths were not so deep, his face was not so wrinkled, his body not so stiff. He pulled his feet back up onto the couch and picked up the remote, resuming the movie. He turned to Kankri. "You wanna watch? I'm only ten minutes in."

Kankri had already stood up to return to his room, and he froze. "That's ten minutes of exposition completely lost to me," he replied as hasty defense.

Karkat rolled his eyes. "If you have a paper to write, it's fine. I don't wanna keep you. I was just asking." His gaze drifted to the screen again.

"No—I'll stay," Kankri replied, sinking to the place beside Karkat. He didn't kick his feet up, but he did manage to lower his back into the cushions. 

Karkat lifted his head to bring Kankri into view. "Are my legs in your way? I know you have that trigger thing when people touch you."

Kankri gave a small smile. "No, I'm fine—thank you," he replied. He patted Karkat on the knee to prove it. "So what's going on?"

**Author's Note:**

> Sickle cell anemia is not my personal experience--I researched it before writing this, and although I took some liberties with troll genetics (inheritance pattern), I hope to have been as accurate and respectful as possible.
> 
> Comments and thoughts on this story are always well appreciated!
> 
>  
> 
> ****An optional sequel, "Calling Home", has been posted as the next work in this series.****


End file.
